


Water and Fire

by bronzerain505



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Biting, Breathplay, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hydrophilia, Light BDSM, Mild Kink, Porn with Feelings, Switch Katara, Switch Zuko, Water Sex, pyrophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23356348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bronzerain505/pseuds/bronzerain505
Summary: Zutara unites post-war, embarking on all kinds of kinky adventures ;)))
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 164





	1. Steam (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Characters are aged up, in their early 20s

The door swings shut behind her, a wave of steamy air washing over her frame. Katara steps forward into the royal bathing chambers beneath the Fire Nation palace, eyebrows rising in surprise as she takes in the paradise. Hundreds of candles spiral in tiers along the chamber's walls, surrounding a sizable pool, complete with a waterfall crafted into the far wall.

"The pool is fed by a geothermal spring nearby," the Fire Sage had explained as he lead her to the women's chambers. The fact that a Fire Sage of all people was showing her to a place meant only for Fire Nation nobility did not cease to puzzle or bemuse her, but then she remembered the circumstances. 

It had taken a lot of convincing to leave Zuko's side. She had completed three healing sessions with him, helped douse the many fires set by the Agni Kai, and stood by as Azula was taken to the infirmary under the watch of a handful of soldiers Zuko deemed trustworthy. Next was the hardest decision of all. She had wanted to take Appa to find Aang, to help him defeat the Fire Lord, but Zuko had wisely pointed out that her presence would only distract Aang, putting him in further danger. 

"And I doubt my presence would do anything to temper the Fire Lord's wrath," Zuko had said, his scar seeming to flinch. Katara had stared at him then, gears clicking into place in her mind. Had it not been for Aang's safety, and potentially the fate of the world, she would have flown off in pursuit of the Fire Lord that instant. Rarely had she felt such rage.

Eventually Zuko had insisted that they do something to occupy the time spent waiting for news, so he summoned a Fire Sage to show her to the bathing chambers.

The pool is circular, with a beach entrance that slopes gradually into deeper water and an underwater bench running along the circumference. She takes off her shoes, allowing the sounds of water lapping at the rock and trickling down the falls to sink into her psyche. 

Water. Being a bender, she obviously has a very close relationship with the substance. It wasn’t until she got a bit older that she realized that relationship sometimes possessed sensual qualities. She remembers once in her youth becoming transfixed by a bucket of swirling, soapy water, only snapping out of it when her grandmother asked her why the dishes were taking so long. Water she had never wondered that much about. It felt natural being a waterbender, her home surrounded by ice.

Fire, however. Fire had taken her by surprise. Looking back the draw had always been there; she has a similar memory of being mesmerized by the hearth, the crackling, writhing flames. This inclination she had suppressed, having seen what fire had done to her mother, her people, and the rest of the world. It came roaring back to life in the form of a surly 16-year-old, defeating her brother with embarrassing ease and scaring her grandmother half to death. 

She had suppressed her feelings early on about as easily as her pyrophilia. There were so many negatives to focus on: his hot-headedness, his anger, his antagonistic role in her life, not to mention the trauma of losing her mother and the oppression of her people, which she inextricably linked to the Fire Nation prince. Still, much like her love for fire would seep it’s way from her subconscious and into her dreams, many a night before he changed sides she awoke sweaty and panting with a familiar ache between her thighs, flashes of flame and firebender dancing across her mind before she pushed them down and away. She felt like she was betraying herself and her tribe, and so by most mornings she had forgotten the dreams.

Since he changed sides, however, it has become harder to ignore the pull she feels, like a moth to a flame, brought to silence by his beauty and strength, and often most frustratingly, by his sensuality. Watching him as he moved through his fire bending forms with Aang brought back early memories of being transfixed by the crackling fire, the dancing flames. Now that he's proven his loyalty, his empathy, and has risked his life for hers, it becomes impossible to ignore how the candles make her shiver, and how they remind her of him.

She disrobes, enjoying the feeling of fabric sliding past her warming skin. Tension melts from her body as she submerges herself in the steaming water. The pool is big enough to swim in, and the flickering flames create a soft and relaxing atmosphere. She kicks off, turning gracefully onto her back and allowing her body to float slowly in a circle as she does her best to relax. The water and setting should make it easy, but flashes of Azula crying and screaming keep pushing into her mind despite her attempts to think of anything else. She can't forget that she's in the Fire Nation palace, that one of her best friends is risking his life fighting the Fire Lord while she takes a bath. 

Zuko becomes a semi-safe place for her thoughts to settle, remembering his desperate shout as he ran to intercept the lightning. She can't help but imagine that it was more than a selfless act for a friend, that he might have been moved by deeper, more primal feelings. She frowns at this thought, and decides it's time she give in to what she knew she was going to do the second she stepped into the room. She needs a metal vacation.

Katara is no stranger to her body. She made good use of her time alone while bathing over the past few years, and this had lead to a very sexual relationship with bathing and water in general. The combination of fire and water was proving too much for her to resist, and so at her command, the water around her begins to move, caressing her form and swirling her dark hair around her. She breathes deep, eyes focusing on the dancing shadows above. 

A jet of water caresses a nipple, causing it to harden and her to inhale sharply. A flick of her wrist and a jet massages her labia, circling her clit, careful not to hit it directly. After a few minutes of teasing, she applies the jet directly, but she can't get her mind off the battle, off Azula's mental state, off the fate of the world that currently rests in her young friend's hands. She huffs, water relaxing, leaving her spinning slowly, on her back in the pool of steaming water. 

An idea crosses her mind, one she'd briefly considered during former baths, but for which she’d never had the luxuries of time and warm water. She tilts her head back, eyes, nose, and then mouth submerging in the water. It roils again, this time with firmer caresses, and she exhales slowly as she directs the strongest jet to her clit. She moans, bubbles flooding from her mouth. 

Not wanting to take more than one breath, she works the jet forward and backward, thrusting her hips to follow it, body crying out for release, head thrashing from the pleasure. The mild panic from the lack of oxygen adds a delicious level to her arousal, one she's only daydreamed about before. Still she isn't quite there yet, and she needs to breathe. 

Knowing she won't get there without it, that as much as she hated herself for it, every orgasm she'd had the past few months had eluded her until she allowed her mind to go there, she caves. 

Zuko. His toned body illuminated by flickering flames. Thrusting hard and fast into her with his mouth by her ear.

"Fuck." 

With the imagination of his gravely voice, she comes so hard her body bows backward and she screams, the last of the air being pushed from her lungs. She breaks the surface, gasping for air, waves of bliss still radiating through her as she comes down. 

Light pressing through her eyelids, she opens them in confusion. The flames stand unnaturally tall, illuminating a figure at the entrance to the chamber. Zuko stands before her, expression an undeniable mix of surprise, shame, and most prominently, lust. It takes her a few more breaths to realize, but there is a substantial tent in his pants.

Time stands still for a few more moments as she recovers from her orgasm, the oxygen deprivation, and the shock of seeing the subject of her fantasies. Then the corner of her mouth lifts in a seductive smirk as she processes his obvious interest. She beckons with a jerk of her head. "Get over here. NOW."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like a pandemic to get you publishing your first fanfic. Everyone stay safe out there <3 Chapter 2 to come tomorrow


	2. Steam (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting out of order because I got carried away with part 3 yesterday. Here's a little Zuko POV

Zuko jogs down the spiral staircase, trying to shake the tension from his shoulders. It’s been a hard day, even discounting the Agni Kai and the getting struck by lightning. His mind flashes back to that moment, to that overwhelming drive to protect. His heart skips a beat, worry rising in his chest. She can’t know, can she? Of all the actions to display that you _care_ about someone, taking a bolt of lightning for them is high on the list.

Despite his attempts to think of anything else, he remembers the mad gleam in his sister’s eyes before she struck. “There’s something off about her, I can’t explain it but she’s slipping,” he had said. Truthfully, he could explain it. The word was psychosis, and he’d seen it before. Shortly after their mother had left, caving under the pressure of meeting their father’s and grandfather’s expectations, she had cut her hair much like she had today. Her mannerisms and speech brought him back to that time, to the months of rest forced by their family physician it had taken to return her to normal. Well, normal for Azula.

And despite what he could imagine as to her tortured mental state, he had chosen to fight her. He had little choice, it being the safest way to protect both his sister and Katara. But he couldn’t protect Azula from herself or their father, and that fact nearly breaks him. He feels a slight itching in his eyes. He hasn’t been able to cry in years. “Thanks dad,” he thinks bitterly.

Tearing his thoughts from his sister’s cries and screams, he breathes deep and focuses on his footsteps. He forces himself to practice what his Uncle taught him, naming five things he can see, four things he can feel, three he can hear, two he can smell, and one he can taste. Feeling slightly better, he searches for safer avenues of thought.

He contemplates his destination, the site of his first sexual experience he remembers ruefully. In his early youth, he had been bathing when the sight, sound, and feel of water had caught his attention like never before. He’d been ashamed of his attraction to water for a long time afterward, thinking of what his father would say if he knew. Shame and his father, his father and shame. Agni he was sick of it.

He turns his thoughts to Katara, embracing the lesser shame. She had ignited his aquaphilia again, years ago, manipulating the substance with a grace and fluidity that he couldn’t ignore. She was so goddamn sensual to him, not to mention adorable, funny, strong, so empathetic and kind. He had it bad, he knew it, but he couldn’t see it as a negative anymore. He’d happily drown in his unreciprocated feelings for her, as long as she remained in his life.

He’d denied his attraction for years, passing off wet dreams as a natural byproduct of puberty. It didn’t help that he had to pursue her across the globe in his quest to capture the avatar. He was ashamed to admit it, but eventually he'd fantasized about completing his quest and regaining his honor about as often as he'd fantasized about earning her favor one day.

Her display of empathy under Ba Sing Se had nearly won him over, only to be destroyed by the arrival of his sister and the opportunity to finally return home, to finally gain acceptance from his father. He couldn’t forget what he’d thrown away when being home made him feel more empty than ever. His uncle had planted in him the seeds of self-love and true honor. He was becoming a changed man. 

For a time he turned to Mai in his search for acceptance, but her feelings were even more repressed than his, and he couldn’t forget the compassion that had shown in Katara’s eyes, her hand touching the scar that his girlfriend refused to. He had seen in her eyes that day the person he could become, the person she believed he could be. Ultimately he wanted to prove her and his uncle right, and his father and sister wrong. For the first time he knew who he was, no longer controlled by shame and self-hate.

Joining Team Avatar had been hard, made much harder by Katara’s distrust and disdain. No matter what he did to prove himself, she only seemed to get angrier with him. Eventually he learned what she had been through as a child, saw her lay down the anger she’d projected onto him, and felt her embrace him. He could have died happy in that moment, nearly unable to pull away when it ended.

And now he had risked his life for her. Hopefully, he thinks as he reaches the men’s bathing chambers, everyone will write it off as a selfless act for a friend and not a show of his undying love for her. He grimaces at that, pushing the door open, then stops dead at the sight that meets his eyes.

Katara floats in the pool, naked and thrashing, back bowed and pushing her chest above water, breasts wet and gleaming in the candlelight. Half his brain is concerned, the other half struck dumb with arousal, when he notices a current of water directed between her legs, and hears what sounds like a muffled scream. The reality of the situation hits him and he becomes ninety percent aroused, ten percent ashamed of his voyeurism. 

Before he can react, her head breaks the surface and he hears her take long, ragged breaths. She opens her eyes and meets his, bliss and then shock evident on her face. Her eyes drag down to his arousal and then back up, seeming to process slowly as she pants for air.

Time stands still for what feels to him like an eternity, then her expression slips into the sexiest one he’s seen in his life and she jerks her head in invitation.

“Get over here," she says. "NOW.”


	3. Steam (Part 3)

It’s too much for him to take in. First, Katara’s naked body, then her wild and kinky orgasm, then that smirk of pure sex, and then … what did she say? 

Growing impatient, she gets to her feet, wading into shallower water. He has to visibly shake himself into speaking, the image of years of fantasies burning itself into his retinas: Katara’s wet, naked body bathed in candle light, nipples hardening as her gaze flits to his substantial erection.

“Are you sure?” he asks, sounding dazed.

She puts one hand on her hip and gestures to her body with the other. “Do I look sure?” 

His cock twitches at her impatient expression and demanding tone. He stands there, awestruck, for one more second, and then frantically begins ripping off clothing. 

She laughs, stepping forward to help him, but he’s already there, sans shirt and shoes, pulling her into a bruising kiss. Stars collide and burst behind each of their eyelids. Nothing, _nothing_ could have prepared them for that feeling, and the hormone race is on. Hungry mouths unearth gasps and moans, but before Zuko allows his hands to roam free of their placement on either side of Katara’s face, in a show of herculean strength, he pulls back. 

Katara makes the hottest and cutest noise of disappointment, tempting Zuko to swallow it and think nothing of bliss, but knowing that soon neither of them will be able to stop save for signs that the other wants them to, he breathes deep and holds firm. Gesturing to the erection now distractingly pressed between them, he says, “do we need…”

“No,” she cuts him off, curling a tendril of water in a spiral around his hand. “Waterbender, remember? Plus I’ll find some stoneseed root later, just in case.” She seems to catch herself then, his question reigning in the lust momentarily and allowing for responsibility. “Unless … have you done this before?”

“Not in years,” he replies, flushing slightly, “and I’ve seen a doctor since then.” He reaches for her hand, rubbing the moisture between them. “What about …”

“I haven’t,” she says, doing her best to look unembarrassed. “And as far as lubricant goes,” she winks, vaporizing the liquid between them, “I think I’ll be fine.” Tension rises palpably between them as her eyes regain their molten blue quality. “Now I swear if you don’t …”

He silences her with a burning kiss, hands gripping her hips and pulling her into him. They moan simultaneously and wantonly as his tent meets her sex, pausing for a second to stare into the other’s hooded gaze. Then, before he can move she’s hooked her thumbs into the band of his pants and dropped to a crouch, bringing the cloth with her. 

His erection springs free, bobbing absurdly and mesmerizingly in front of her face. He starts to speak, but she silences him with a look, returning her rapt attention to her favorite new toy. She licks her lips involuntarily. He closes his eyes, willing himself not to spontaneously combust from that look on her face. She leans in, pressing a kiss to his inner thigh, and a hiss escapes his lips as his hips jut forward slightly. A moment passes and he opens his eyes. She was waiting. It strikes Zuko that this is no act of submission. Katara is very much in control. And he loves it. With the eyes of a huntress locked on his, she licks the underside of his cock from base to tip, drawing out a ragged “fuuuck Katara.”

She moves to engulf him with her mouth, looking positively ravenous, but he stops her with a hand on her shoulder. “Wait.” She stops, leaning back, expression slightly disappointed but mostly concerned. “I’m gonna come way too fast if you do that,” he says, breathing hard.

“And that’s a problem because…?”

He laughs lightly, but then his eyes grow intense. “Because I want to fuck you.”

She smiles, body flushing white hot at the words. “Well are you going to come way too fast if we do that?”

He pauses, embarrassed, and then nods. “Well then, why don’t we do this: I make you come, you make me come, and then we fuck?”

His golden eyes burn into hers, and she feels more wanted than she has ever experienced. “I’ll take that as a yes” she smiles, and she licks another line up the side of his cock. He bites back another “fuck,” hands coming to rest in her hair, massaging her scalp. She sighs happily, reaching to the water below and back up to pump his length, reveling in the velvety smooth and rock hardness of it. She looks up and he is biting his lip with the dual look of having died and gone to heaven and that of being tortured in hell. He's holding back and she is having none of that.

She gives him her best sultry, imploring look. “I want to hear you,” she says, before pressing her mouth to the tip.

“HolyfuckingshitKatara” he groans as she wraps her mouth around him, swirling her tongue around the head. 

Some primal part of her being has taken over, and the young, virginal part of her that had worried she wouldn’t know what to do is forgotten as her inner monologue shouts “this is so fucking hot! He’s hot, I’m hot, yeeha!” She almost laughs as she processes that last part, and whatever vibrations that sends his way are nearly his undoing as he fights from pushing his hips forward. 

Again, she's having none of that, so she places her hands on his toned backside, pulling his pelvis toward her as she opens her mouth and takes him in further. He groans deeply, then remembering his hands begins to massage her scalp again, pulling a moan from her that nearly pushes him over the edge. Frantically searching for thoughts to stave off his impending orgasm that don’t involve a naked Uncle Iroh, he gives in to the moment, accepting that his bliss will be short-lived but staggering. 

Meanwhile, Katara is having the time of her life, discovering that she thoroughly enjoys the taste of cock and the feeling of it heavy in her mouth. She presses forward still, discovering a new avenue of exploring breath play, and takes him in until she begins to gag slightly. He gasps and his hips jut forward slightly again, which she rewards by pulling them forward and sucking hard. He nearly explodes at that, and knowing it is only a matter of time, reaches down and runs a finger over her left nipple. She is so sensitive, and so aroused, that the sensation draws from her a choked sob of a moan, and with that he thrusts forward, letting loose a stream of expletives as his cock pulses rhythmically and jet after jet of hot cum coats her throat.

Swallowing eagerly, she releases him with a pop and looks up to his completely blissed out face and slightly swaying body. She stands, shaking slightly herself, and leads him into the soothing water, sitting next to him on the bench. After a few moments he seems to come to, immediately appearing guilty at his perceived selfishness and reaching to caress her before his strength has returned.

“Shhh,” she says, stroking his face and leaning in for a soft kiss. “Take your time, honestly I might need a minute to process how hot that was.” The look he gives her is full of awe and thanks and … something else she can’t name. He kisses her gently, then fervently, reaching to settle her in his lap. Several minutes of gentle yet ardent kisses and caresses ensue, broken only when he pulls away, eyes cast downward and heart beating anxiously.

“I just need you to know,” he begins, daring a glance at her cerulean eyes. “This is … this isn’t just sex to me.” He shifts uncomfortably, still refusing to meet her gaze. “I’ve known this for a while now, but I never imagined I’d be able to tell you. And I don’t want you to feel any kind of pressure from me, ever,” his eyes flash upward, meeting hers. “But …”

And it clicks. Past the thrill she felt when his hands had encircled her wrists, when he had tied her to that tree and purred into her ear. Past the dreams and the fantasies and the obvious sexual pull she feels toward him, something more has been growing deep down. She had felt the beginnings of it before he even switched sides, empathy beneath Ba Sing Se which she quickly turned back into hate. It had been safer to hate him for so long, looking at his face now, earnest and reverent, it amazes her that she had so confused her emotions.

She had allowed her anger to reign on for a time after he had proven himself trustworthy. Again, it felt safer than the emotions she was no longer able to keep beneath the surface. She caught herself staring more than once as he played big brother to Toph, mentor to Aang, friend to her brother, and she found herself feeling so jealous that they all got parts of Zuko that it scared her and she kept her distance. When he sought to make things right between them, she chose to loosen her hold on anger, feeling relief and joy that that part of her life was over. Still she kept her distance, ignoring the thrill that hummed through her body as they tumbled beneath the falling rocks, his body strong behind hers, and ignoring the liquid terror that had coursed through her veins as he fell from the sky, the relief that flooded her as she pulled him into Appa’s saddle.

The more she looks, the more she realizes that her anger has evaporated to be replaced with something yet stronger, that her anger had existed only to disguise the latter for a long time. She looks back at how her stomach had begun to drop in a new way when he was mentioned or present, how she finds it difficult to look him in the eye because it feels like staring into the sun. She thinks of his resilience and determination, his empathy and grace, even his hot-headedness, and tears threaten to well at the corners of her eyes. She has never felt so certain of anything in her life:

“I love you, ” they say together.

They stare into each other’s eyes, mirror images of shock and joy. “You what?” he says weakly, hardly daring to believe his ears, 

She smiles, caressing his scared cheek and leaning in closer, holding his gaze. “I love you, Zuko.”

After a moment of disbelief, his face splits into the truest smile of exaltation she’s ever seen on him. It’s blinding. She returns it, looking down for a second before her voice bubbles: “you love me?”

“Of course I fucking love you, Katara!” he says, a bit louder than he means to, pulling her to face him directly. “How could you not tell?”

“How could _you_ not tell?” she asks, laughing lighter than air. “Forget love for a second.” (They can’t.) “How did you not notice me checking you out most of the past year?”

This earns her a gravely laugh. “How did _you_ not notice?! I’ve been checking you out since I met you.” She flushes at that, pleased. It becomes very difficult not to notice that she is straddling his lap, his arousal growing between them. They will have time to talk later, a lifetime maybe. Right now other needs are making themselves known. 

He notices her distraction, grinning in a way that makes her heart somersault and her limbs grow cold. Placing a gentle hand on her chin, he pulls her in for a kiss that is anything but gentle. It’s all open mouths and tongues and teeth, leaving her gasping for air and struggling to catch up. Dominant Zuko, she realizes, and who the very thought of makes her entire body quiver, places his hand on the back of her head, deepening the kiss and kneading her scalp, letting loose a deep moan from her that causes his cock to twitch between them. 

She cants her hips forward, seeking friction. “None of that,” he chastises, moving to hold her hips firmly in his large hands. “I need to explore your body thoroughly before I fuck you.” She gasps, and he moves his lips to kiss beneath an ear. “And I will fuck you,” he says, voice dripping with sex. “Hard.” He bites her earlobe.

She lets out a gasping moan of “fuck!” her hips rolling forward almost of their own accord, clit pulsing like a live wire.

“What,” he rumbles, pulling her legs tightly around his waist and standing up. “Did I just say?” he deposits her roughly on the ledge of the pool, running a commanding hand from her throat, between the valley of her breasts, down to just above her clit, and stopping. He kneels on the bench.

She’s breathing erratically at his show of dominance, noting the upward curve at the side of his mouth, knowing he’s enjoying this as much as she is. She shivers and huffs as his hand changes direction and slides up her thigh, pushing her legs apart and ignoring her burning sex. “Spirits above, Zuko, if you tease me I swear…”

“You’ll what?” he taunts, leaning in and inhaling deeply. She remains silent. “You’ll hate-love it?” She smirks and nods demurely. “That’s what I thought,” he leans in and captures her mouth again, one arm reaching around the small of her back and pulling her to his chest, the other reaching to finally cup a breast. He’s been eyeing her tits for years. Resisting touching them up to this point has been the most delicious torture.

She releases a breathy moan, perhaps louder than any so far, and when he splays his fingers and then squeezes, pinching her dark nipple between his middle and ring finger, she nearly comes undone. Never had she imagined that tit play could feel so good, or that she would be so sensitive.

He pulls back to take in her expression, pupils blown wide and chest heaving. He looks to his hand on her breast, lifting and squeezing the mound again. Her head falls back against the wall, candles flickering powerfully above her. He allows himself a second of awe that this is happening, at his luck, and then he lowers his mouth to her other breast, licking across the nipple. Her back arches forcibly, a strangled cry forced from her throat, and then he latches on and she is lost to bliss. A litany of pornographic wails reverberate throughout the chamber, and it feels like an eternity before he lets up, having switched breasts a handful of times.

“Well shit,” he pants, eyes alight yet dark with just small rings of gold showing around his pupils. His cock is painfully hard and poking into the wall of the pool, but he ignores it. She smiles and laughs shakily, blissed out, chin dropping to her chest. “Can’t wait to hear this,” he says cockily, bending to lick a line up her sex from entrance to clit. She is so wet, and tastes so exquisite that he moans greedily into her cunt, barely audible over her shriek of pleasure.

He dives in, licking and sucking at everything he can reach, drawing from her a series of jangled cries and a hand knotting in his dark hair. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” she moans, head thrashing against the wall, teeth biting her lip so hard that they threaten to draw blood. The pleasure is so intense, so overwhelming, that she is baffled as to how she hasn’t orgasmed yet. The reality is, this is the first time she’s had someone’s face between her legs, and despite the deafening sensations, she’s slightly self conscious.

He looks up after a few minutes, her cries having continued but died down. His face is shining with her arousal, and his shows so plainly on his face that she nearly blushes. “Can I finger fuck you?” he asks, looking hopeful. She nods, nearly moaning in anticipation, and he pulls back, watching as he slowly slides a digit into her dripping pussy. Her head smacks loudly against the wall behind her, and he stops, looking concerned. “Are you ok?” She laughs, shaking her head yes, slightly dizzy.

“Just keep doing that,” she pants, leaning her head back, pressing the sore spot against the wall. She is a masochist after all. He returns his attention downward, relishing the feeling of her slick inner walls squeezing his finger, unable to stop himself from imaging them clutching his cock.

“Fuuck Katara,” he groans, pushing the digit back in, farther this time. She whines, pushing her hips forward, trying to take more of him in, but his other hand settles on her hip again. “Uh uh uh,” he smiles, and then he dips his head down, sucking her clit into his mouth, and she nearly screams, doing everything she can not to push forward again.

He begins a slow rhythm, sucking her clit in time with the thrusting of his finger. Her hands claw at his head, pulling him slightly closer, which he rewards with a wet groan, pushing his face into her. When her moans quiet slightly he teases her entrance with two fingers, then pushes them slowly into her, drawing out a ragged “unghhh.”

She is so tight around his fingers, clenching even tighter with a formidable strength, that he nearly comes from zero stimulation, imaging his cock buried in her taught heat. Still after minutes of thrusting and clenching and sucking and moaning, she hasn’t come undone, so with difficulty he pulls his head away and looks up at her. 

“Any requests?” he grins, clearly having the time of his life. She contemplates this, teeth worrying her lower lip. Then her pupils blow wider still, and her eyes burn into his.

“Bite my lip.” He looks confused for half a second, then positively growls and dives back in, withdrawing his fingers completely and delving his tongue into her depths, rubbing her clit with his thumb. This is nearly too much for her, and her face contorts in pleasure, barely holding on. Then he switches positions, fingers pumping into her heat at a rapid pace, thumb expertly rubbing her clit, and lowers his face to her labia, sucking it into his mouth, and biting down.

“Oh f—“ and her orgasm rips through her like a tornado, pain and pleasure driving her to heights previously unexperienced. It radiates through her body, seeming to last for an eternity, then slowly ebbs to a warm glow. She opens her eyes and the room is considerably darker, the candles on the other side of the chamber having gone out.

“That was …” he starts, looking lost for words, “… fucking transcendent, Katara. When you came the water pulled toward you and then exploded outward.” His eyes are wide, glowing with admiration and … love. That’s what it was, love.

She exhales deeply, pulling the water lazily back into the pool. He relights the candles, then pulls her back into the water and into his lap. His erection pokes at her backside, causing a flare of desire to run through her, but he lets her relax for a time, kissing her temple and drawing patterns across her stomach. 

“This is …” she murmurs.

“Yeah,” he agrees, kissing the top of her head. “You aren’t going to believe this…”

“What?”

“I came.”

“What?! But I wasn’t even touching you!”

“I know,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just too hot to handle.”

She’s quiet for a time, contemplating the effect she’s proven to have on him and the pride and confidence it makes her feel. “Well damn,” she turns to look at him, the corner of her mouth raising in a sly smile. “You’re filthy.” With a flick of her wrist, a wave sends the soap and sponge from the corner of the room over to them. “Here, let me clean you up.”

“Not a chance,” he says grinning. “Ladies first.”

Lathering up the sponge, he drags it across her chest and her still hard nipples, eliciting a gentle gasp. “Agni, Katara,” he groans. “Your tits are fucking fantastic.” She turns her head to the side, breathing deeply into his neck.

“You’re fucking fantastic,” she replies lamely, smiling up at him as he chuckles.

They take turns lathering each other up, her bending water over them as they go. She pays special attention to his washboard abs, his broad shoulders and his thick cock that is miraculously hardening again. He spends an inordinately long time on her tits, ass, and pussy, making her ache with want. Eventually it’s too much for either of them and they end up making out hot and heavy against the wall with the waterfall, steaming water cascading over their bodies which gleam in the candlelight.

He backs her against the wall, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he lifts her up slightly. Water cascades over her breasts and torso, making her look like the goddess of the seas. Their hooded eyes meet, an understanding growing between them that this day, but especially this moment, will be remembered for the rest of their lives.

Their mouths meet in a twist of tongues and hot exchanges of air, teeth narrowly missing each other. He slides a hand up from one of her hips to grip the breast above, causing her entire body to buck against him. Unable to wait any longer, he pulls back and lines himself up at her entrance, meeting her eyes with silent entreatment. She nods eagerly.

The feel of his mushroomed tip pressing against her labia causes her eyes to shut, head bouncing back against the falls. He slides his hand upward to grip her chin gently, turning her head down toward him. She opens her eyes, meeting his, and with exquisite slowness, he slides into her.

“Fuuuuuck,” they groan together, her back arching and his hips pushing hers back against the wall. He holds her there for a few moments, reveling in the warm, wet, tightness he’s been fantasizing about for years. Her jaw drops in a silent moan as the takes in the full, stretched feeling of his hot, hard, length filling her up. And then he moves.

Thrusting into her slowly, his head tilts back to take in her expression above him. Her mouth is still open, eyes rolled back with a look of pure bliss across her features. He growls possessively, leaning forward to suck her neck, then her tits as he picks up the pace. 

She can barely move let alone think, but then he hits a spot deep inside her and she arches her back further, hips pushing forward into his. His right hand slips down her, tweaking a nipple as it goes, to grip her hip again, and he pulls her toward him as he thrusts harder still, carving her open.

They cry out in tandem, his spine slipping forward as he ruts into her shamelessly, water sloshing around them. She's given up on pushing back and lets herself be slammed repeatedly into the wall.

Her nails scrabble helplessly at his back as she reaches to pull him closer, his teeth scraping her shoulder as he breathes hard and fast.

“Fuck, Zuko. Bite me,” she manages, and he opens his mouth wider, taking her shoulder into it as he pants raggedly against her. When he bites down, she releases a strangled scream, her cunt clamping down on him like a vice, nearly preventing him from pulling out. As she clenches and unclenches, head thrashing from side to side, water spraying him from the falls, he manages a few more thrusts, hands shifting to push her thighs back against the wall, spreading her wide. With a final drive into her, diving as deep as he can go, he grunts animalistically and cums hard and hot into her depths, her convulsions milking him of all he’s worth.

With his climax, the candles glow white hot, bathing them in bright, clear light, and this and the feeling of jets of hot cum shooting into her push Katara to new heights. Her jaw nearly unhinged in a silent scream, the water surrounding them and falling from above them glows icy blue, complimenting the white candlelight. A wave of power surges through them, and Zuko feels the sting in his chest and limbs from the lighting recede, the vision in his scarred eye sharpening as he takes in the scene. Then, as the deafening pleasure begins to ebb, the lights fade and they are left in flickering yellow candlelight, collapsing into each other.

Carrying her slumped form, he wades them slowly to the shallow incline, still buried inside her, her healing glow having filled him with just enough vigor to do so before he collapses, bringing her on top of him. After many moments of deep, content breathing, she stirs, shifting her head slightly on his chest to gaze up at him. He looks down, grinning serenely, and kisses her gently, lingering for a moment before he drops back down, exhausted. She sighs happily, nuzzling into his chest and resting there.

Eventually, despite his protests that he was enjoying her weight, she rolls to the side and he slips out of her. With a motion of her hand, she bends his seed from her passage and into a nearby drain. They lay there for an age, staring into each other’s eyes and contemplating everything that's happened.

At the same time, they open their mouths to speak. Then, giggling, say at the same time: “I love you.” They dissolve into raucous laughter, shaking with mirth and joy, grinning madly.

“We are such idiots,” she chuckles, splashing him lightly from her position on her side. “Not knowing …”

“I know …” he smiles blindingly, turning to face her fully, eye scrunching up as it meets the water. “We’re seriously, seriously dense.”

“Toph knew.”

“Really?” he looks caught off guard.

“She can sense heartbeats Zuko,” she laughs. “And she made a few jokes when no one else was around. Believe me, she knows.”

He nods at that, appraising her gently. “Can you sense heartbeats?” he asks. “Or wait, stupid, you definitely would have known.”

She smiles, slightly sadly. “Only when I try hard, or when I’m really connected to someone. Like … earlier I actually felt yours.” She looks at him sheepishly, as though afraid he’ll turn and run. “But most of the time I try to shut that part of me off, though I wonder if it would help with healing.” She frowns again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to—“ 

“It’s OK, Zuko. Really. Honestly I think you’re the only person I want to talk to about it. And it’s liberating in a way, makes it feel less like a curse.”

They lapse into companionable silence, him tracing patterns on her hand. He didn’t want the moment to end, but it couldn’t be avoided having brought up Toph, he knew she had returned to worrying.

“About the others … when Aang gets back,” he puts emphasis on the ‘when,’ “do we tell him …”

She sighs, having contemplated it briefly alongside everything else. She wanted to keep this from him until the day she died, not wanting ever to hurt him, but she knew the lie would only hurt him more, and it was best to get it over with.

“I think we should tell everyone today.” she says, causing him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. “They’re going to be celebrating the victory, and I don’t know if we could hide it,” she traces his hand. “And … I don’t want to.” She doesn’t allow herself to contemplate what would happen if Aang looses. She can’t. She looks up at him, eyes shining brightly. “Do you?”

He pulls her to him sharply, smothering her in a hot kiss. “No,” he says, pulling back. “Honestly, I want the whole world to know.” She melts at this, and they spend a few more stolen moments lying in each other’s embrace. Finally, after a particularly loud growl from her stomach, he pulls away, chuckling.

“I need to go get us some food,” he says, smiling. His smile falters, “and to see if a messenger hawk has arrived.” He stands, retrieving his soggy pants from the floor and gathering the rest of his clothes. 

She pushes herself upright, bending the water from his clothes. She looks to him like a mermaid on the shores of a lagoon. “I can go with you,” she says, making to stand up.

“No, you stay here, finish the bath I interrupted.” He steps forward once clothed, capturing her mouth in a last, hurried yet fervent kiss. Once he leaves, she watches the door, a thousand emotions warring for her attention. She can’t deny, the strongest is joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully got some good sex ed in there for virgin erotica fans like I was for many a year. Highly unrealistic first time with all the orgasms, and USE non-waterbased LUBE for water sexplorations, but if you take away:
> 
> 1) Consent is freely given, reversible, informed, enthusiastic, and specific  
> &  
> 2) Talk birth control, STIs, and lube before you get it on (or in ;))
> 
> then I've done my job.
> 
> Also for those who don't know, switch refers to both dom and sub inclined peeps, which I firmly believe Zutara are :)))


	4. Thunder and Lightning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get heavy in this one, unintentional but the muse wants that she wants.
> 
> TW: talk of physical and emotional abuse
> 
> Vanilla chapter, more kinks to come.

Katara wakes with a jolt, lightning illuminating the room she shares with Toph. As the light fades she slides through the silk sheets into a seated position, rubbing sleep from her eyes with the palms of her hands. Normally lighting would evoke nothing but wonder and slight fear in her, having lived without it for the majority of her life. Tonight it brings up sharp memories from the previous week, memories that bring with them emotions that sting at her eyes as she pushes herself to her feet. She sneaks past the earthbender’s bed, grateful for once for her loud snores, and slips out the door.

Her mind wanders as she makes her way through the palace, reviewing the past week’s events. 

***

He’d come bursting into the bathing chambers, sweeping her into her arms from where she’d sat awaiting the news anxiously, and spinning her in a wide circle. She’d known from the relief and joy evident on his face, but still she’d needed to hear it. 

“Aang won?!” she’d gasped. Zuko pulled a note from his pocket and handed it to her. Her eyes zipped across the page, and then she threw her arms around his neck, tackling him into the water.

He’d emerged, spluttering and laughing, tone and expression lighter than she had ever seen them. He pulled her to him, and they spent the next half an hour locked in the other’s embrace. Eventually, gasping for air, she’d pulled back, then settled comfortably into his lap. He held her close, kissing her forehead and then her shoulder, stopping to inspect the latter.

“Damn,” he’d murmered, blushing slightly when she looked at him. “I … I was kind of hoping I’d leave a mark.” He nipped her lightly where his teethmarks should be etched into her skin. “Guess that’s what I get for making you cumbend.” He smirked devilishly. 

She’d returned his smirk, shifting slightly in his lap and claiming his mouth in a commanding kiss. She pulled back, holding his gaze with the look of a predator surveying her prey. 

“Oh you haven’t seen cumbending,” she’d purred, leaning in to suck lightly on his neck. When she pulled back, her expression made it clear that she didn’t mean _now_. He didn’t seem to know whether he felt disappointed or relieved, though his cock straining at his sodden trousers gave a clue.

Searching for something to reign in his imagination, he’d asked her: “So what are you doing in the men’s bathing chambers?” She’d started at that, looking around confused. Then her expression had turned slightly amused, slightly suspicious.

“Either that Fire Sage has no idea what he’s doing, or he knows _exactly_ what he’s doing,” she’d said, at which his brow had furrowed in confusion.

“You think he tried to hook us up?” he’d asked, looking bewildered. “Wow, I guess there are some people in this country on my side.”

She’d snorted lightly, hand reaching up to caress his face. “But you knew that already,” she sighed happily, then drew him in for a chaste kiss.

***

An hour later when they’d awaited everyone’s return, they’d held hands, heads high as they ignored pointed looks from Fire Nation nobility and curious looks from soldiers. The Fire Nation sages, especially the one Katara recognized from earlier, looked almost pleased at this display, and although they were among the minority, they were not alone.

When Sokka, Suki, and Toph arrived in a war balloon, the latter looked relieved and then smug as her feet hit the ground. Suki looked overjoyed for the two of them as she came into sight, mouth seeming to form the words: “I knew it.” Sokka stopped dead in his tracks, looking momentarily horrified. Then he seemed to slump, accepting reality.

“I’m happy for you, sis,” he said, appearing genuine even as he pulled her into a bear hug, breaking her away from Zuko. He rolled his eyes at that, only to look surprised as Sokka drew back from his sister and offered him his arm. “You too Zuko,” he pulled him into a hug. 

Just as he began to relax, Sokka whispered in his ear: “If you so much as disappoint her, you’ll have space sword to answer to.” He drew away with a neutral expression, arm encircling Suki as she stepped back from hugging Katara.

“Well, well, well,” Toph said, stepping forward. “Sparky and Sweetness, what do you—“

“You knew, we get it,” Katara cut her off, pulling her into a tight hug.

When her father arrived with the Water Tribe fleet, he gave a similar if slightly more dignified reaction than his son. Regarding Zuko with slightly more wariness and respect, he gripped his arm and puled him into a hug, whispering “we’ll be watching you.”

As they pulled away, Zuko seemed to internally grimace, knowing as she did that it would be a long time before they could be together as they had earlier.

Aang’s reaction was the one she was most nervous for, the wait nearly driving her insane. Still, Zuko’s constant presence at her side reminded her to breath deeply, knowing that everything would be OK. Aang’s reaction was also the one that surprised her the most. Pausing for a second to take everything in, he ran forward and embraced them both, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he said: “I’m so glad you’re alright.” Pulling away a sad smile showed through his relief as he met Katara’s surprised gaze, as he looked to her placement next to Zuko. “I’m not surprised though,” he said, “you take care of each other.” Turning to embrace the others, then making his leave to find Aapa, Toph following at a respectful distance, she knew he would need time to process. Still, his initial reaction and loving support meant the world to her.

***

Thunder booms and she’s pulled back to the present by her arrival at Zuko’s chambers. She knocks gently then slips inside. Unsurprised to find him awake, she crosses quickly to where he stands by the window and flings her arms around him, inhaling deeply his scent of eucalyptus and smoke. His arms grip tightly around her lower back as he buries his face in her hair, breathing deep as well. 

They remain as such for a handful of moments, relief flooding them at the other’s touch. When she pulls back and looks up to kiss him, his fingers reach up to brush tears from the corners of her eyes. Then he cups her cheek and pulls her in close, causing liquid heat to pool in her belly. Before they can get too excited, however, he leans away, hands on her shoulders as if to hold himself back. 

He smiles slightly, brushing a lock of dark hair from her collarbone. “I was hoping you’d come,” he murmurs. 

Lightning illuminates them and a strange expression flashes across his face before it's quickly hidden. She recognizes it as tightly controlled anguish and pulls him down to the nook of cushions by the window with a look of concern.

“What’s going on?” she asks, placing a gentle hand on his scarred cheek and leaning in to wrest his gaze from the ground. He seems to flinch away slightly, so she settles her fingers on his cheek below the red, mottled skin.

He looks to the side, seeming almost trapped and uncomfortable. She waits patiently, and finally he speaks haltingly. 

“I’m … I’m just feeling really … I don’t even know.” He exhales in frustration, fists knotting at his sides. He’s still looking anywhere but at her.

“Hey.” She gently tilts his chin toward her, drawing him in with empathetic eyes. “That’s OK. It’s alright not to know. Spirits I don’t know what I’m thinking or feeling half the time.”

He snorts disbelievingly at this, eyes turning slightly bitter. “Katara, you’re the most emotionally in-touch person I know.”

She smiles with amusement and caution. “Well you haven’t had the best sample size, have you.”

Silence falls over them, then he leans slightly into her touch. This was one of the things he loved most about her, her ability to understand and to get down to the bottom of an issue quickly, gracefully, and accurately.

Searching for something to lighten the mood, she laughs softly and says: “Also, I convinced myself that my feelings for you were hate for years when that was wildly inaccurate, so I wouldn’t make me your emotional role model just yet.”

His eyes find hers, and she has to resist looking away from the sun again. “I love you,” he says like a vow, and she’s nearly silenced by the raw force behind it.

She leans in, seeking to heal him with her expression, pouring into it all the love and compassion that she can. “I love you,” she returns, and for a moment they simply bask in that truth.

She waits, knowing that he will talk when he’s ready, but grips his hand tightly, tracing patterns on it with her thumb. She hopes that someday he will be ready, and then he surprises her.

His shoulders seem to slump in resignation, eyes finding hers filled with desperation, fear, and resolve at what he’s choosing to do. “I can’t help her,” he chokes. 

Her eyebrows knit together in understanding as she pulls him into a tight embrace. She feels him shake against her in silent, dry sobs, and pulls him even closer. “Shhhh,” she soothes, stroking his hair and neck.

He pulls back, expression shifting from anguish to anger. “And I can’t even cry about it!” he nearly shouts, palming his eyes as she had done upon awakening, only with desperation. “Agni, I’ve been trying Katara. I can feel that I need to, growing stronger since I changed sides, but it’s like a switch needs to be flipped and I don’t have access to it. And he …” his face screws up in pain and he clenches his hands, knuckles white as he forces himself to continue. “He burned me for …” He collapses into himself, shaking harder than ever. 

She sits on her knees, leaning in as she rubs soothing circles on his temples and forehead. She’s shaking too, doing what she can to reign in her tears and anger as she realizes what he’s been through, why his father targeted his eye, that he literally burned the tears from it. She breathes deeply, calming herself so she can calm him in turn. 

She pulls him into her lap, draping his body across hers and guiding his face to her chest, cradling his head in her arms. She rubs soothing patterns on his back and breathes into his hair, waiting out the storm, both figuratively and literally. Lightning and thunder continue, space between each clap and flash increasing until they can hear nothing but the rain. He’s reached his limit emotionally, unable to feel sad that their position and the comfort she’s giving him reminds him of his missing mother, allowing only relief and gratitude to make themselves known.

Finally, he tilts his head upward, kissing her neck. Thanking her, he sits up and pulls her to his chest, mouth meeting the top of her head. They remain that way for a few more moments, Katara stealing herself to make one final push, hoping that it won’t be too much. 

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” she asks, looking up at him. “I mean it’s about Azula, but it’s about him too.” 

He nods, taking a shaky breath, holding it for a second and then releasing it in a gust of hot air. “I feel … relieved, that he’s alive.” His face screws up again, and he bites out: “And I hate myself for it. I want to just hate him, it would be so much easier…” he shakes his head slowly.

She turns to look him head on. “I know everything he’s done has taught you otherwise,” she begins softly. Then her voice strengthens with resolve, her eyes imploring his to accept. “But love isn’t a weakness, Zuko.”

He looks at her like he’s never seen her before, like he’s taking in one of the seven wonders of their world, like he’s discovered an eighth. A tidal wave of grief, relief, gratitude, and love hits him with deafening force, and a solitary tear wells in his scarred eye, then trails down his cheek.

Having watched his expression shift, she gives him a watery smile of her own, embracing him for a third time and holding him like she’ll never him let go. Eventually, exhausted, they climb into his bed and he settles behind her, arms holding her tightly to him, face buried in her neck.

***

A few hours later, as the first light of dawn reaches them, she feels him stir behind her. His hand has migrated in their sleep to cover one of her breasts, a fact which both amuses and ignites her, and she feels his length begin to harden and press into her backside. Unable to stop herself, she sighs deeply and wiggles in his grasp, causing his eyes to snap open and hand to squeeze slightly.

Before she can moan, he's pulling away, apologizing and turning his hips. She follows him in one lithe movement, pressing her body against his side and swinging a thigh up to cover his bulge. Their eyes meet in the early dawn light, darkening as the room grows lighter. 

They collide in a mess of limbs and tongues, Zuko pulling her on top of him, Katara grinding her center against him. He pulls his mouth away from hers, ripping her shirt over her head and nearly burning her wrappings off of her chest. In a show of restraint, he begins to unravel them, jaw clenching as she bucks wildly against him. 

His large hands find her hips and hold them still as he latches his mouth to a breast, wrappings still partially covering the other. Her head drops back as she gasps, pupils blowing wide.

He rolls them over and divests himself of his shirt and pants while she hastily undoes her lower wrappings. 

Things slow down when she takes in his chest, muscles rippling as she gently traces his new scar. Their eyes meet and seem to melt with emotion, the unspoken love suddenly palpable. 

They meet in a slow, trembling kiss, tongues intertwining and hands roaming leisurely, reveling in the emotions and sensations. When he finally lines up at her center, he drags the head through her folds, wetting it with her arousal, and then up to her clit, circling it while taking in her expression.

He presses into her with exquisite slowness, reveling in the tight, wet strength that encloses him. She’s quivering slightly, doing what she can to meet his gaze, and failing continually as the pleasure pushes her eyes shut.

They settle into a slow rhythm, her hips pushing upward to meet him thrust for thrust. Their eyes are locked as they breathe in the other’s gasps.

Her hand reaches down to splay over his scarred chest, tracing the star-like mark that had saved her life.

When they come, it is not physically explosive, but radiating with emotions and a closeness that will stay with them far longer than a hard fuck.

As they shudder from release, his wight presses down on her and into her in a way that she finds filling and comforting. They lay that way for a long time.


	5. Bondage (Part 1)

As the late afternoon rays of one of the last days of autumn fade, Uncle Iroh sweeps into the Fire Lord’s office and gives him an appraising look. Zuko is buried in a mountain of paperwork, glasses nearly falling off his nose as he sits hunched and scribbling. At the clearing of his uncle’s throat, he reluctantly looks up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

Katara had given him the darkest look he’d ever seen grace her features the day he’d been prescribed the black-rimmed spectacles. Hastily locking the door behind her, she had practically pounced on him, tearing at his robes and shoving her tongue down his throat. Pushing him roughly down onto his papers, she had taken him into her mouth and sucked hard, eyes fixed on his through his new lenses. 

When she begged him to fuck her on his desk, he had happily obliged, but it had made every moment spent at that desk since a constant battle not to think about it. She had kissed his cheek once they’d finished straightening his papers, saying “I like your glasses, babe,” and they had reminded him of her ever since.

Wrenching his thoughts from his girlfriend as he had a hundred times already that day, he fixed his attention on his uncle who was admonishing him yet again for overwork. 

He had a point. Zuko’s dedication to his work as Fire Lord hadn’t left time for much more than a few meals a day and a morning spar with Katara, severely limiting their time together and ensuring that his uncle only ever saw him working. The way he saw it, however, what choice did he have? There was an extremely sharp learning curve taking on the responsibility, and he was determined to do it differently than any of his predecessors.

Katara in her role as ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe had proven invaluable, advising him in matters from reparations to applying more communalist social structures to his unfortunately individualist nation. They were facing severe pushbacks from the Fire Nation nobility and other advisors, to the point that they had asked Toph to screen a retinue of guards for each of them in case of any assassination attempts. The poor and marginalized of the Fire Nation had never been better supported, but they had a very long way to go.

“You need to take time to recharge, Prince Zuko. You need to learn when and how to ask for help.” Iroh grins warmly, placing his hands on his belly. “Not this time, however,” he says, “I’ll be taking over your duties for the weekend.”

“What?! Uncle—“ he splutters, but before he can protest, Iroh raises a hand, serious expression silencing him.

“It is done, you can thank me later.” With a twinkle in his eye, he winks and says “Lady Katara is already aboard the vessel. It departs for Ember Island in half an hour.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” Zuko sighs gratefully, hugging him before nearly running from his office. After hurriedly packing his things, including the leather sack from Master Zhu, he jogs joyfully all the way to the docks. He’s grinning like an idiot, ignoring surprised stares, delighting in the freedom of wearing civilian clothes instead of heavy robes, his hair freed from his topknot and falling around his face. He can hear harrumphs in the near distance from his retinue, and the clanking of swords and armor. 

When he reaches the vessel he’s nearly struck dumb by the sight of Katara, happily swirling her element around her on the shore, ocean blue eyes alight. He sweeps her into his embrace, both of them laughing as the water falls around them. She bends the water from them and, hand-in-hand, they board the ship and depart.

Thanking the cooks and crew after dinner, they descend the steps to their quarters in companionable silence. Once they’ve reached the large four poster bed and energy crackles between them, she takes in his bloodshot eyes and slightly haggard appearance, the many suppressed yawns she’d noticed during their meal. 

“Let’s go to bed,” she says, smiling and pulling him in for a hug. “We’ve got plenty of time for that later.” He appears slightly disappointed, and then grateful, pulling her closer and nuzzling her hair. 

***

He awakes to a peculiar sensation around his left ankle. Eyes snapping open, he tries to roll to a sitting position only to find that he can’t. His body is stretched across the bed, wrists and ankles secured to each of the bed posts with padded black leather cuffs. Katara stands at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over her chest and a smug, predatory smile tugging at her lips. 

He struggles slightly against his bonds, a thrill thrumming through him as he assesses his helplessness, shooting straight to his groin. He’s already at half-mast. 

A glance to the side reveals a leather bag exactly like his. He smirks up at her. “Master Zhu?” he half pants, vaguely surprised by the effect his incapacitation is having on him. That’s only part of it though, he thinks. The majority of the reason is Katara.

She smiles, running a hand down his leg to his ankle, testing the restraint. “Any numbness or tingling?” she asks. He shakes his head, and she smiles devilishly. “Good,” she purrs, “if that changes tell me, or this is the last time we’ll be able to have fun like this.” Her hand slides back up his leg toward his groin. He arches into her touch.

“Tsk,” she admonishes, removing her hand and leaning over him, smirking. “None of that or I’ll go from teasing to torturing. Now won’t that be fun.” He groans, turning his head to the side and clenching his teeth.

“Now, about these,” she says, plucking at his sleeping pants. "I hope you packed another pair." She pulls a pair of scissors from her bag and begins to slowly and carefully cut the material off his legs. Once the ends have been cut, she tears, and it takes everything in him to keep from writhing in pleasure from the combination of the sensations it sends to his growing erection, the eroticism of having his clothes ripped off, and the expression on his lover’s face.

She cuts and then tears his shorts off, freeing his erection and licking her lips involuntarily. Their eyes meet and the tension is palpable as he strains lightly at his bonds. 

She steps back, crossing her arms again as she appraises her work. “You poor thing,” she says sympathetically, that predatory smile making an appearance again. “That looks uncomfortable.” She steps forward, reaching out as if to stroke his shaft, shifting at the last second to rake her nails across his abdomen instead. He groans loudly.

“Hmm, that won’t do.” She tears a scrap from his shorts and shoves it unceremoniously into his mouth. “There, that should keep you quiet.” She allows her hands to roam over him now, soothing and massaging, earning her soft moans and groans through the fabric as she ignores the area he most needs her. 

She climbs over him, body hovering over his, assessing how his muscles strain with the effort of lying still. She leans in, breath tickling his ear, and says in a voice positively dripping with sex: “good boy.” She bites his earlobe. He nearly loses it, whimpering horsely into his makeshift gag. Finally allowing him some needed friction, she rubs her clothed sex against his hard shaft, releasing a needy moan. She pulls the fabric from his mouth and claims it with hers, tongue twisting demandingly. She grinds against him for a while, noises escalating between them as their pleasure increases. 

She rolls her hips into his and he strains wildly at his bonds, trying to grasp her and pull her closer. In a flash she is out of his lap and at the end of the bed, surveying him with slightly swollen lips and a glint in her eye. 

“Who is in control here, Zuko?” she asks, a hard edge to her voice.

“You are, Katara,” he croaks.

“That’s right,” she smiles. “And what can you do about that?”

A slight pause while her point drives home. “Nothing.”

She steps closer and pulls her shirt over her head. His eyes find her bound breasts immediately, raking over her hungrily. 

“Do you want to touch me?” she asks, unraveling her bindings and cupping a breast. He nods quickly, a desperate look in his eye. She climbs back over him, coming to a rest with her breast hovering just above his mouth.

“Suck,” she commands, and he services her eagerly. Her head drops back in pleasure, mouth opening slightly in a silent moan. There is something so intoxicating about taking charge. Liberating in it’s agency, intimate in his submission.

After ordering him to switch breasts, she finally moves down him and engulfs his thoroughly wet tip in her mouth. He nearly shouts in pleasure, so she stuffs the fabric back in his mouth and takes him deeper.

When he gets close, tendons in his arms standing out as he fights from thrusting his hips forward, she releases him with a wet pop and looks up at him with an innocent grin.

“How’re you doing, your wrists and ankles feel OK?” He groans loudly, head thrashing to the side. She smirks, pulling the fabric from his mouth. “You need something babe?”

“Yes Kat, fuck, I need … I need to come.” She feigns surprise.

“Oh you do?! Why didn’t you say so?” He half laughs half groans as she takes him back in, bobbing her head quickly, hastening him toward his end. Just when he’s about to come she ceases all movement, edging him again. 

She smiles devilishly as she stands and steps out of her lower wrappings, taking in his obvious discomfort. "Get used to that feeling, Zuko, I'm not nearly done with you yet."

She positions herself over him and, agonizingly slowly, takes him in. They moan in tandem, heads falling back in pleasure. She takes a moment to collect herself, resisting the urge to ride him to her heart's content.

Leaning forward, she grips his chin lightly, ensuring their eye contact. "You are not going to come until I say you can come," she commands. "If you come before I say, this is the last time I'll fuck you for the rest of the weekend. Do you understand?"

He nods slowly, golden eyes molten. Testing his determination, she grips him tightly, smiling as he clenches his jaw and exhales through his teeth.

"Good boy," she purrs, then slowly she rolls her hips. She rides him languidly, ever so slowly picking up the pace. Then she's riding him hard and fast, pushing him right to the edge and then stopping, sucking on his neck, kissing his jaw. She repeats this process a few times until neither of them can take it anymore.

Rubbing her clit and bouncing on him quickly she manages a "Fuck- I'm- Come with me," and he thrusts hard up into her, letting lose a hoarse groan as she spasms around him. He releases spurt after spurt, eyes rolling back as he rides out the longest orgasm of his life. She collapses on top of him, thoroughly spent, and they breathe deeply together as they come down.

A minute or so later, she reaches up to unfasten the cuffs around his wrists. She rubs them gently, noting the red lines from where he had been straining.

She kisses his forehead. “How do you feel?” she asks.

“Fucking speechless,” he breathes. “That was- You- Fuck Katara," 

She smiles, bending to kiss his lips. "I meant how are your limbs," she giggles.

"Oh, they're fine, no numbness or ... fuck" he sighs, dropping his head back to the mattress.

She laughs, moving to release his ankles, massaging them, and then crawls into his arms and buries her face in his chest. He squeezes her tightly to him, enveloping her in his warmth. 

“That was so … freeing,” he says in wonder. She squints up at him with a smile. 

“I hoped it would be, I read bondage can be a nice escape for people in positions of power. And you’ve been working so hard.”

"Not just that though, being used, being at your mercy ... I've been, like, craving that, without even knowing it. Does that make any sense?"

She nods knowingly. "It's quite the drug. I'm pretty fond of it myself, being dominated. Didn't know how much I like dominating until now though." She kisses his neck.

"Feel free to do it whenever you want," he chuckles, kissing the top of her head. "Corner me in the middle of an assembly with the Fire Sages, they won't mind."

"You exhibitionist perv!" she accuses, laughing. 

"Guilty as charged, perv," he says through a lopsided smile.

"I guess that was a bit hypocritical," she allows, smiling against his chest.

"A couple of lovestruck pervs, what a good time." They're quiet for a few minutes, then he frowns. "Were you really not going to fuck me for the rest of the trip?" 

"Fuck no," she scoffs, "which reminds me, we need to find some other punishment for you that I wouldn't hate."

"I'll work on that," he smiles wryly. He looks down at her, awed by his luck at having found her as a partner. Then an image of Katara, bound, gagged, and helpless flashes across his mind, causing his dick to twitch.

“When do I get to return the favor?”

Her eyes darken as they meet his, and then she kisses him hungrily, moaning as her tongue twists with his and her imagination runs away with her as well. She pulls herself away. 

“As soon as we get back from breakfast if you like.”

He extricates himself from her and practically jumps out of bed, hurriedly finding new clothes and pulling them on.

“Well, come on!” he urges, and she laughs as she does the same just as quickly.

***

They try not to hurry through the meal for appearances sake, failing as they wolf down eggs and guzzle orange juice, minds busy reviewing their last experience and anticipating their next. Once they loose sight of any crew members walking back to their quarters, he grabs her hand and breaks into a jog, pulling her after him.

They reach the door, grinning madly and giggling like the lovesick fools they are. As soon as it closes, he pushes her firmly against it claiming her mouth with his.

They vy for dominance for a few moments, mouths slotting hungrily against each other, him pushing her against the metal and her pushing back. Then he reaches to where her arms encircle his shoulders, pulling him toward her, and pushes them up over her head, pinning each wrist to the door with a hand. 

Something hot and delicious sinks in Katara’s stomach, as always happens at the emergence of dominant Zuko. She eagerly confers power, allowing him to thoroughly explore her mouth with his, hard planes of his body pressing into her softer ones.

He gathers both her wrists in one of his hands, using his free one to squeeze her breast as he moves his mouth to her neck and sucks. She whimpers in pleasure, back arching as she presses forward into his hand.

He pulls back, pupils blown wide, and admires the mark he’s left on her caramel skin. She’ll have to heal it before they venture outside again, he thinks. He resolves to leave some in places only he will see.

His eyes travel up to meet her stormy blue ones after taking in her slightly heaving chest and fuller than usual lips. The look she’s giving him nearly consumes him from within. Agni, he loves this woman.

Resisting the urge to rip off her clothes and fuck her against the door, he lowers her arms and pulls her across the room to the bed, wrists still gathered in his hand. She follows dutifully, feeling nearly pulled into a trance by his energy.

He releases her by the foot of the bed, stooping to collect a bundle of rope from his leather bag. When he turns back to face her he notes her wrists are still held together in front of her, a slight smirk growing on her face.

“I know how I’ve been getting lessons from Master Zhu, but how the hell did you find time for that?”

He returns hers with a smirk of his own, tossing a loop of rope over her head to her lower back and pulling her in for a kiss.

“I may have cut into my sleeping time, just a little bit.” He laughs at her answering scowl. “Hey, it was well worth it. You’ll see.” He releases the end of rope in one hand, raising it to her chin and squeezing lightly.

“Now take off your clothes.”


End file.
